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“We’re not going to have sex again, Harper.”
“Of course we are.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“This.” He slid his hand around the back of my neck and planted another earth-shattering kiss on me. As my cock swelled and my heart started pounding, I threw myself at him and returned the kiss like I needed it to live. When I finally pulled back to catch my breath, I realized I was straddling his lap, and his hands were cupping my ass. He sounded slightly breathless when he said, “You want this as much as I do, Phee. For once in your life, don’t overthink everything. Just let yourself have a good time.”
I scrambled off his lap and took a deep breath. As much as I wanted to take offense at that bit about overthinking, he was right. That was exactly what I did, all the time.
It startled me when the door to our right opened, and I looked around. We’d arrived at the studio, and the driver was holding the door for us. Harper slid out of the backseat with the garment bag, and I quickly repacked my messenger bag and followed him.
The schmoozing began the moment we set foot inside the building. I took the garment bag from Harper as he shook hands with the show’s producer and chatted with her. Meanwhile, an assistant issued me a pass to wear around my neck, then directed me to Harper’s assigned dressing room.
It turned out to be fairly large, at least as far as dressing rooms went, with a couch and chairs, a makeup station with a large mirror, and a table that held fresh flowers, a gift basket, and an array of snacks. I checked and confirmed that the dorm-size refrigerator was filled with Harper’s beverages of choice.
Most stars had a clause in their contracts that specified what they wanted waiting for them on set, whenever they agreed to do a show or make a public appearance. Some of the requests were absolutely ridiculous. I knew of one musician who claimed to only like green M&Ms and required a huge bowl of them in his dressing room before each of his gigs. That meant some poor assistant would have to go through several bags of candies and pick out all the green ones, just because some asshole found it funny. Stars like that were on a power trip, plain and simple. They asked for stupid shit because they could, and they didn’t care about inconveniencing others. I’d always appreciated the fact that Harper wasn’t like that. His contract did ask for diet soda and protein bars instead of the usual array of sugary stuff, but that was just because he had a hard time resisting junk food if it was in arm’s reach.
Within minutes, someone from wardrobe whisked away Harper’s suit and shirt to have it pressed, and I stepped out into the hallway to see who was around. During a typical episode of his late-night talk show, Tommy Allen would have four guests and a musical act, but for his anniversary special, over a dozen stars were on set. That meant backstage was utter chaos. Quite a few celebrities had spilled out of their dressing rooms and were milling around and schmoozing, along with their assistants, agents, and entourages. Meanwhile, staff members rushed around with headsets and clipboards, their expressions ranging from grim to borderline panicked.
“Phoenix!” I turned to see who’d called my name and spotted my friend Noah weaving through the crowd. He was a handsome Black guy in his early thirties, with a stocky build, short dreads, and a smile that always seemed like it was right on the edge of becoming a smirk. Like me, he’d spent the last decade working as a personal assistant, which meant he had zero fucks left to give.
We grabbed each other in a back-slapping hug when he finally reached me, and he exclaimed, “It’s great to see you, man!”
“You, too! You look terrific.”
He grinned at me and said, “You speak the truth. Who are you here with?”
“I went back to work for Harper Royce.”
Noah grasped my shoulders and gave me a shake as he blurted, “No, you did not!”
“I did.”
“What the hell, Phoenix! He drove you insane when you worked for him a year ago, and you and I both agreed quitting that gig was the best choice you ever made.”
“I know, but he was desperate. His assistants keep quitting on him, and his entire life is in disarray. He didn’t even know he was supposed to show up for this gig until yesterday, when I found an unread email buried in his in-box.”
Noah frowned at me. “So, you decided to swoop in and make everything better?”
“He’s paying me three times my usual rate, and it’s just until July. Then I’m going back to work for this sweet up-and-coming actor named Will Kandinsky.”
